Empathy
by Dokuso
Summary: A prequel to another story I'm going to upload later. Rated for mild cursing and a slightly detailed death. Finished, finally.
1. I Hate You

Ivory: ::waves:: 'Lo I'm Ivory Shadows, until I decide to change my name and what not...Well, yeah, this is just the "prologue" to the story I'm going to write later. I don't know how many chapters this...Erm..."Prologue" is going to be. So...It's set about five years pre-Jak II, hope that helps clear something's up.

Xeniar: So it's more of a _prequel_, then?

Ivory: ::glares at Xen:: Yes, it is more of a prequel...So anyway, I'll let Xen handle the disclaimer.

Xeniar: Good gods, if you really thought she owned it...You're just plain stupid and shouldn't be allowed to live...We don't need any more stupid people.

Ivory: Xeniar, you forgot that I own you and the plot!

Xeniar: Holy hell! This is about my life?

Ivory: Just the first half! ::grins::

Xeniar: ::glares::

Ivory: So as Xen was saying, I own nothing! Well, all except him and the plot…Oh I went through and fixed most of the errors…I hope I got them all…I'll check again soon.

* * *

Chapter One:

I Hate You

I was nine around the time my dad received word that he was to be drafted into the Krimzon Guard, I hated him for not blowing his damn head off then and there, like most the others were doing...Because around this time the Metal Heads were attacking like hell. My mom got really upset when dad told her he had to go, that he was going for our benefit, so we could live safe and not have to worry.

"Why not just move to Haven City like everyone else?" Arien would ask my parents frequently, to her it seemed the perfect way out.

Dad nearly jumped for joy that day...I mean, it seemed the perfect solution, he'd go to work in the Guard and we'd live inside the city walls, instead of the rat hole of a town we lived in now. Problem was, I still had to go to school, I mean, I was nine, you don't just pull a kid out of school and tell them to make something of themselves with a fourth grade education.

But of course, Arien had a solution for that too. Every morning my dad would wake me up about a half an hour before he had to leave, to give me time to get ready for school, then he'd leave for work and drop me off in front of the building, he'd then wave and leave. After school was over, I'd walk home to find dad and mom talking to some of dad's fellow Guards outside our house; we lived in the slums, like most of everybody else.

I followed this routine for a long time, but soon my dad couldn't find the time to take me to school...He'd wake me up, say "Your fiery orange hair is just like your mother's, fading to soft gold near the ends. You know, that's the reason I talked to her in the first place, 'cause her hair caught my eye." he'd then exit for work, leaving me to walk to school. Sometimes I could get mom to walk with me, though most of the time she said she was busy with cleaning and such, and, like my dad, would leave me to walk alone.

When I got to school, people were usually pretty quiet, they didn't really tease me or anything, hell, they didn't seem alive. Everyone was dispirited, and I was pretty out of place there, everybody had dark eyes, it bugged me to be the one of the only people with jade eyes there. I used to be really enthusiastic about school, but now, I wasn't, the place was just...Gloomy. The teachers seemed to be far away all the time, like their mind was elsewhere. I loved the breaks we got though, the other students seemed to brighten instantly, they'd challenge each other to races across the field, they'd play tag and other sorts of games.

The school bell would ring, dismissing everyone from class, nobody was happy to go home...I assumed it was because they knew they'd just be going home to a dad that didn't have time for them and a mom who was always worrying about their dad. My dad would be discussing with co-workers when I got home, but they were usually pretty nice to me, they'd smile and ask me how my day went. I always replied with: "Okay, I guess." After the meetings dad would play a game of twenty questions to figure out how my day went, he always asked the same questions, and he always seemed pretty happy to me.

My daily routine never really seemed to change over the next four years, I went to school, went home, answered dad's questions, eat dinner, answer mom's questions, then go to bed. So, I went to school, and dropped my bag by my desk, nothing to important was ever in it anyway; I sat down and listened to the teacher's long, boring drawl, or I was supposed to. The teacher hadn't started talking yet, and there was some new kid standing in front my eighth grade class, he had dark hair, like everybody else, but his eyes were a bright blue. I guess that was why I became friends with him. His name was Silasyr, he was normally pretty cheery, and he was always the first to volunteer for things, so he was okay in my opinion.

I went home that day with better spirits than I had in the past four years, and I was looking forward to telling dad and mom about my new friend, Silasyr.

I opened the door, and stumbled back in shock, I felt like I was going to throw up...And I didn't even know why. I had a nauseating feeling in my stomach, and an eerie air loomed about the house, I looked at the floor, it was covered in what looked like blood. I should've stayed outside, but I couldn't, it's like some horrible accident, you know you shouldn't look, but it just fascinates you...And you stop thinking altogether and just stand there...And stare at it with your mouth hanging open. I followed the stains into my parents' bedroom, the door was slightly open...I don't know what possessed me to open the door completely...I just did. I gagged, I saw my mom's corpse lying on the bed. Her wrists had been gashed open, and in her right hand was a gun, a bullet shell lying useless near her head. I was going to leave the room, but it was just...Morbid...And exciting...So I went closer to the bed. There was a hole near her temple, it was bloody and some of the flesh had been blown away, minute sized pieces of skull and what I hope was flesh were scattered around near her head. I threw up.

Disgusted as I was, I somehow managed to get into the kitchen, where my dad had broken down and was fighting to hold back sobs.

"So...Did you see her?" he choked out, his normally happy green eyes pained and foggy.

I nodded slowly, I felt horrible.

"But why'd she do it?" I asked, tears threatening to pour from my own eyes.

He held out a note, some of the words were blurry where my dad must've been crying while reading the letter.

Reosev and Xeniar:

Reosev, it's your fault. You had to get drafted into the fucking Guard. You had to move to this place. You had to force us into an impossible city. You had to get caught up in that war. You had to be too fucking afraid to say you couldn't go. Then you dragged Xeniar into it. But it isn't your fault alone, hell no. It's Xeniar's, too. That little bastard had to come home dispirited. He had to bring his problems into the home as well. He couldn't be normal. No. He couldn't pretend it was okay. He had to give the house a miserable feeling.

I hate you both. And I hope you understand that. You're both fucking stupid, you should get along fine. Have fun managing the house without me.

Sincerely,

Lynkrof.

My hands were shaking when I finished reading the letter. I felt horrible, like I was somehow to blame. Dad reached out to take the letter, but I shook my head.

"It's not our fault." I growled, still clutching the letter firmly.

"Xeniar...Just give me the letter, I'm going to have it burned with her body and the bed." my dad told me, he was trying his best to be comforting.

"No!" I shouted, tearing the letter into pieces and letting them fall to the floor.

"It's not our fault, she shouldn't have..." I began to cry, and my dad pulled me into a hug, trying his best to calm me down.

"You're still just a kid." he told me.

"I'm thirteen."

"See? You're still just a kid."

"Whatever."

* * *

Ivory: Are you crying?

Xeniar: ::trying to hide the fact that he was crying:: N-no. Of course not.

Ivory: Okay, well, whatever. Yup, well, that's about it, I don't know when I'll be able to get the next one up.

Xeniar: ::mumbling:: Maybe if you review she'll stop turning my life into a sob story.

Ivory: But that's how it happened, Xen!

Xeniar: ....

Ivory: Well, anyway, tell me how it is! Praise will be thanked and flames will be used to keep Xen's house warm in the next chapter.


	2. Why Not?

Ivory: Well Xen left upon assuming that I was going to turn his life into a "sob story". So here with the disclaimer is Silasyr.

Silasyr: She owns nothing but the plot, me, and Xen.

Ivory: Brief, but it works.

* * *

Chapter Two:

****

Why Not?

The Baron had shut the schools down, replacing them with a types of "academies". You'd choose a profession, join the academy that taught it, and continue going to those classes until you -- if you made it through the classes without failing -- graduate. I didn't want to be anything, so I'd stay at home and watch the ceiling, or sleep, or sit in the middle of my small room and wait for dad to get home.

When dad would finally get home he'd stagger into the bathroom and throw up. I don't know why, and when I asked him, all he'd tell me was: "Had a rough day."

He wasn't the ecstatic and loving father I remembered. I began to ignore him, he complained, and began to get on my nerves. Then he asked me to join the Guard, or go join an academy.

"No." I'd tell him each time he asked.

"Why not? All you do is sit around at home, you don't even bother to go to an academy." he'd respond with this every time.

"'Cause all the Krimzon Guards do is walk around in their bulky red armor, wave their guns around, and yell at people. The academies are no better, from what I've heard, most of the people don't even graduate from them."

Then he'd mumble some incoherent words and suddenly take interest in that days news.

I got tired of hearing that I didn't do anything, that I should join the Guard, or join some damned academy…So I began to spend days walking around Haven City alone, sometimes Silasyr would come with me, though he was almost always busy with training for the Guard.

"You know, Xen, it's really not so bad." Silasyr would tell me, the once bright eyes were now shadowed by his heavily tattooed face.

"You sound like my dad." I'd mutter.

"So? I mean the tattooing doesn't hurt as bad as most people think, and the chance of an infection is pretty slim…"

"It's not that." I'd tell him. "It's just, what exactly do they do? Besides "keep the peace"."

He'd normally stop and think for a moment, then shrug.

"I'm still just training."

With Silasyr becoming more and more caught up with his training, I had nobody to talk to, and soon I stopped going for my walks altogether. Dad still asked me why I didn't go join an academy or start training in the Guard, and I still gave him the same answer. Seeing that the repetition of his question was having no affect on me, he changed his tactics. He told me I _had_ to pick one of the two or he'd sell me to the Baron to do what he wanted with me. Personally, I'd rather join the Krimzon Guard than go to an academy and make a fool out of myself by failing. But then again, I'd rather rot in some cell than join a group of egotistical bastards. I told him so, too. And, as promised, he sold me to the Baron.

I have got to have the best dad in the world.

Like I said, I'd rather rot in some cell than join the Krimzon Guard, and so rot I did. I heard screams echo off the metallic walls of the prison, I assumed that some new type of torture had been discovered by the Commander of the Guard…Or the Baron…Whoever's in charge of that stuff. I, thankfully, wasn't introduced to this, instead, I was the guinea pig of the doctors. I got to take the brunt of the side effects some of the new medicines and such had, like fevers, colds, vomiting, paling of the face, temporary blindness, hell, even short-term insanity (which, made my decomposing more enjoyable).

I didn't get to meet the Commander of the Guard, and I guess I was lucky for that. Though in his stead I got to meet some very interesting individuals…Most of whom were irritable, depressed, or just pathetic. And this was basically how my years in prison went, I survived through some medicinal defects, shrugged off the Guards' jeering and insults…Though the beatings weren't as easy to get over. That heavy armor hits hard, and being under weight due to lack of nutrition, it would knock me into the cell wall.

I spent about two or three years in prison, the doctors lost interest in me and moved onto other prisoners, I guess my immune system worked up defenses against their medicines. I hadn't heard much about anybody, though I managed to catch something about Silasyr joining the front…Or some other military term. There were also some rumors about a group of renegades that would break into the prison and free some of the prisoners. This I found funny, because it seemed to have the Krimzon Guards in my sector worked up, I guessed it was because they were afraid to meet someone that would gun them down. I wasn't stupid though -- those pills and injections hadn't melted my brain -- I knew that if I laughed at them or pointed out the fact that they were scared, I'd get my scrawny little ass kicked.

The beatings became more regular, everybody needs a way to vent their anger and frustration I guess, I took mine out on the cheap, thin blanket I got. After awhile though, the Guard became more confident in their ability to break anybody who managed to get thrown into their sector. Some of them were probably pretending to have given up, some of them weren't. Me? I was between the two. I think the Guards noticed this and decided that it was their duty to make sure every single one of the people in their boundary screamed, or cried, whichever came first. This meant that the abuse got more severe, and lasted a lot longer on those who didn't give in so easily. Some of the "sessions" lasted a lot longer after the victim had screamed, you could hear them beg. My own punishment was moderate in length, most of the time it consisted of being kicked, hit, mentally tortured, or being thrown into various things. Sometimes they would even think out of the box and come up with new ways of abuse.

It was sometime later that year that I heard the red sirens go off, blaring out the alert: "Breach in the prison. Look out for intruders." The Krimzon Guards on duty in my area instantly became alert, they had been sharing a conversation about the Baron's new "Dark Warrior Program." My ears perked at the sound of gunfire, some instructions being yelled, and then more gunfire. I watched the taller of the two Guards near my cell fall to the metal floor with a loud thud, and the second grimacing as he felt the floor become slightly sticky with blood, as he began to back up, he managed to loose his footing and fall back into a wall, knocking himself out. I heard more shouts and the sound of boots hitting the ground hard.

I soon saw one of the renegades pass by my cell, checking both Guards' pulse before taking a security pass from the one that had been shot. He appeared satisfied with the discovery of the pass and walked to the cell left of me. There was a was something muttered through the security system of the cell and I assumed from the sound of metal scraping against the floor that the door had slid open. I watched the man walk to my cell, and he repeated the process, I muttered a light "Thanks" and he shrugged saying it was "Nothing new" before he walked to the next cell and continued from there.

The siren was still blaring I thought it best to navigate my way out of the prison, of course, I didn't have to. It seemed that the group had planned that out as well, as there was about five of the renegades near the entrance to the sector, each of them was gathering some of the prisoners and leading them out of the building. I wasn't about to wait for some person to tell me to follow them, so I joined a group and let the "leader" guide me out. Once back in the open air, there was a series of different vehicles, and map that held directions to different empty apartments or homes, most of which were some distance away, so a security pass was included with the map.

The renegades began to tell people to get onto a vehicle and follow the directions on the map, that there'd be various sizes of clothes, some food, etc. at the building they were going to. I hadn't learned to control one of the zoomers, so I resorted to taking a quick lesson from a nearby person. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be, and soon I had reached my destination, after dodging through various alleys, and taking roundabout roads to loose the Guards that had been hunting the escapees down…This wasn't that easy of a task either, I almost wrecked my vehicle about half way there. I did manage to loose them though, eventually, and when I got to the deserted home I found some decent clothing, I had to cope with attire that was slightly big on me, not that I cared. It was better than what I had been wearing.

I assumed the place wasn't a permanent dwelling service, so I ate quickly, and managed to get used to being back in the city. I was just beginning to grow accustomed to the security the small home offered when the sound of shooting and some yelling reached my ears, dammit, I had just began to get used to the hum of engines outside, too.

* * *

Ivory: Erm…About the renegades, it's _not _the Underground, I don't know if they held raids on the prison, in fact, I don't think they did…In my opinion they'd be careful about who they release, this group obviously wasn't…I think they just like to piss the Baron off. ::shrugs:: As for the schools and stuff in the beginning, I assumed they didn't have _actual_ schools (after eighth grade, 'cause everything you learn through grades one-eighth is pretty basic), but instead academies, and that's why I wrote them to be shut down. As for the whole escape vehicles, I don't remember what they're called, I think it's zoomer, but I'm not entirely sure. And no, not all of the escapees made it to the buildings they were headed, I think about 7-9 of them did. ::shrugs:: So…Give me feedback…Please? ::big puppy eyes::

Silasyr: That doesn't work.

Ivory: Shut up. So, suggestions on stuff, questions, _anything_? Ah well, I don't know when I'll get the next chapter up, but, maybe if you review, it'll motivate me to type faster!


	3. Welcome Back

Ivory: Sorry I've not updated in forever, I was trying to write the chapter, and every time I did, it came out all wrong...Well, I reckon this won't be much longer, 'cause well... Yeah.

Xeniar: ...Was that it? No thanks to reviewers or anything?

Silasyr: I think she might've mentioned thanking them after the chapter.

Ivory: No, no I didn't... But I'll do that. Well, anyway, I don't own anything (besides Xen and Sil) because if I did, Erol wouldn't've "died."

* * *

Chapter Three: 

**Welcome Back**

I can't say I liked Haven City, but I didn't hate it either, I guess I just felt content with all the noise and crowds¼ But come on, disrupting an escaped convict? Not something to do, bucko. Well, I'll admit, I'm not especially dangerous, hell, I doubt I could fight my way out of a paper bag¼ But, I could always threaten them -- have the shit beat out of me later, but still, it's better than nothing, right?

Going against my better judgment -- which isn't saying much -- I stepped outside, all in all, there wasn't much going on. Oh...Wait, scratch that. Whatever had been going on, well, it was taken care of now... By which I mean two of my fellow escapees lying in a pool of their own blood, a shocked expression on their faces. I took a brief look at the civilians that stood around the bodies, most wore a bored expression, some parents held their crying childrens' shoulders in a death grip, most just shrugged and walked away.

"Right, well, that's taken care of... Any idea where the others are?" I asked, walking up to my old friend casually.

Silasyr whirled around and immediately had the gun at my chest.

"Geez. Relax, Sil, you know that I couldn't do anything to you guys if I wanted to." When I had finished he lowered the weapon and sighed.

With an elaborate gesture at the city and people around him, he finally replied. The whole time he was speaking, I was staring at my boots, shifting my weight from foot to foot. In truth, even if I had been paying attention, I doubt I'd be able to derive where he was coming from, anyway... And I thought I'd just go along and try to play off of whatever he said.

"Well... Sure, I suppose." I was hoping that it wasn't something I was going to later kill myself for. Whatever he had said, my reply made him happy as hell, apparently.

"Great, I'll sign you in tomorrow." Wait a second... Sign me in? For what? Therapy? Gods know I need that. I had a feeling that whatever it was I wasn't going to enjoy it much.

_(::insert clever scene seperator here::)_

Silasyr had told me I could stay at his place until I could afford my own, which was nice of him, but what'd you expect? I was his only friend throughout school, mind. Yet he still wouldn't "remind" me of what I had said "sure" to, and it was thoroughly pissing me off. Geez, I have no idea how long I annoyed him before he finally gave in.

It was in the living room, I was happily eating my cornflakes -- which, I didn't buy, so I can't call them mine -- when he walked into the apartment and laughed. This caused me to choke on my wonderful cereal, glare at him, and attempt to save myself from a horrible death by drinking half the milk in the bowl... Needless to say, this made my cornflakes that much less appetizing.

"What's got you so worked up?" I asked, wiping my mouth on the sleeve of the dark-red shirt Sil had lent me.

"You start tomorrow."

"Erm... Start what, exactly?"

"Your new Guard Duty... Well, not tomorrow tomorrow, but you'll be in armor by the weekend."

I could've sworn my eye had twitched, and if it didn't, it should've. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

He then stared at me with a bemused look on his face, gods only know how I wanted to rip out his eyes and make him eat them right then and there. "Well, it's what you said yes to."

"No. No I didn't. I wasn't even paying attention to you, let alone cared about what you were saying."

"Well, sucks for you. Maybe now you'll pay attention... Oh, and your hair, don't cut it... Let it grow out longer, you know, help keep your "old identity" a secret."

I rolled my eyes. "I wasn't a criminal, you know, it's not like I actually did anything. Why the hell would they care if I was in prison at some point?"

He just shrugged and walked into his room, leaving me to think. Seriously, would it have killed him to remind me of what I had agreed to? No, it wouldn't've. Damn him. But really, it was my own fault... I guess I should pay closer attention to what people say... But I wasn't about to admit that.

_(::insert clever scene seperator here::)_

Well, as it was, I had to go through with it. There was no more excuses on my part. Yup, that's me, noble Xen... Well, not really, but it would've been! I swear! If I didn't have a phobia of needles I seriously wouldn't've cared. But alas! I did. So when the tattoo freak-guy practically threw me down in that chair, I could've sworn I was about to piss my pants.

I don't know how long I sat in that chair, but I remember hearing that annoying and threatening buzz of the needle-thing he was using. Well, for the most part, it hurt like hell, but I can't stand pain... So I may have been exaggerating to make Silasyr feel bad -- needless to say, it didn't work. Well, I now had my face marred by gray-blue markings on my ears, above my eyes, across the bridge of my nose... Typical Guard markings. My face was sore after that... And I dreaded the day I went in for training.

Yet everything comes and goes, I guess... And my training was not one of those "comes and goes" experiences, it seemed to drag on forever -- yay for my whining. Well, anyway, I was in a group with a bunch of kids, come on, kids! I'm not that inept with weaponry! Whatever, I couldn't fire gun properly, and when I did manage, I missed the target by a mile; so they gave me wrist blades to use. They're sort of like gauntlets except they go around your wrist -- I am not about to bracelets, there isn't anyway in hell -- and when your pulse rate gets going fast enough the blades extract from the metal wrist brand -- yep, I'm avoiding the word -- they act as weapons. Pretty cool, no? Okay, maybe not. But that's what I had to use.

They told me that since my attack rate with the gun was incredibly low, that they'd see how I used the wrist blades, needless to say, I'm better at hand-to-hand combat, I just can't aim. So, they partnered me with a Guard who looked like she wanted somebody to off her right then and there... Yes, they partnered me with a chick... But, man, could she kick ass! She had me down within a matter of minutes, not that I was much of a challenge. So, I got to spar with her for some time, and I gradually got better. Not by much, but better.

Training ended after that day and they told me that I would become more adept with my weapons over time and after a few battles -- yeah, right. So, I went back to Sil's apartment, to find him passed out on my couch. Yes, my couch. It was my bed, sort of... I didn't buy it, but you get the idea. Being the jerk I was, I pushed him off it and pulled him to small kitchen floor, where I hit his head purposefully on a chair leg. I left him there, and I went to crash on my couch. Well, maybe now he'll leave my couch alone.

_(::insert clever scene seperator here::)_

A few days later I was out on the "field," so to speak. I still wasn't sure of my hair being so damn long, I mean c'mon, I looked like a fuckin' pansy. What did we do on the "field" anyway? I don't know, it's they had expected me to interrogate my father about his job and just what they did.

Okay, let's get a few things straight before I start to complain about how patrolling a damned city full of people who yell and run in terror from somebody on a fucking jet-board, let me recap on the most important parts of the last few weeks.

One: I went to go get my face tattooed. Of which I still cringe when I think about it.

Two: I got to go train with six-year-olds.

Three: Because I was inept with a gun and would probably end up killing half my "allies" in chance of a fight, they gave me wrist blades - I still can't use them right.

Four: There isn't a four, why? Because I'm that dull and boring.

Right, whatever, I'm ending this transmission now. Later details to come, maybe...depends on my mood...how lethargic I feel...if I'm still alive...or haven't yet shot myself...whatever.

* * *

Xen/Sil: You're really bad at endings. 

Ivory: Shut up. ::mumbling:: Ungrateful bastards.

Xen: Thank the damn reviewers.

Winged-Raccoon-The-Dragon: Thanks for reminding me, I wasn't sure. I never am. - -;; Sorry I update slow, really slow, really really slow.

Krin: So much undeserved praise.

Crimson-fishbone: Actually, it's not that good. And Xen's an idiot, incapable of feeling emotio-

Xen: I can to! I just didn't care, s'all!

Ivory: You liar. But anyway, this is just the prequel, the ending part of it¼ anyway... if I have time I'll start on the first chapter of the actual story tomorrow, I'm sick with strep today.


End file.
